


Dicks & Maths: a Between the Lines fic

by The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff



Series: Between the Lines [11]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2020 (Simon Snow), Humor, M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Oh my god they were quarantined, Really bad sex jokes, baz at risk of turning into a prune, baz languishes in a bathtub, btl quarantine, dev has ruined the term darling for baz in this universe, dev is the king of hell, i think lol, niall is tired, oh well, references to game of thrones because i wrote this fic & do we expect anything less, simon is a sweetheart, this is devereaux we’re dealing with here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:09:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/pseuds/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff
Summary: Baz, Simon, Dev, & Niall are stuck together for quarantine. They’ve all gone a bit barmy, but Baz’s OCD is on some wild shit.aka, the BTL crew in quarantine, take 1
Relationships: Dev/Niall (Simon Snow), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Between the Lines [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1464463
Comments: 30
Kudos: 105
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	Dicks & Maths: a Between the Lines fic

**Author's Note:**

> written for the carry on countdown, day 1: found family 
> 
> Hey y’all! 
> 
> It’s that time of year again, & honestly I wasn’t sure I was going to do the countdown this go around, but yesterday I had this crackhead galaxy brain moment where I decided I could write little fics about the BTL crew & their quarantine shenanigans. Knowing me, this might be the only fic to come out of that idea, but we’ll see lol. 
> 
> **Something important:** this fic deals with intrusive thoughts typical of obsessive compulsive disorder that are sexual in nature. 
> 
> Rated M to cover my bases.
> 
> anyway i wrote this in a few hours so hope it’s good lol

**SIMON**

Baz is in the bath again. 

He’s in there every night, soaking in salts and oils. Dev calls it _languishing._ Niall calls it none of his business.

It’s just what Baz _does._ He goes in there to try and get his mind off things, because this year’s been shit enough for all of us, but it’s done a bit of a number on his brain stuff, hasn’t it? I mean, he’s _alright,_ but before this year he was doing better than alright most times. 

Anyway, he’s in there, and Dev and Niall and I are in the sitting room, and it’s fine, but I’m thinking again that maybe it would’ve been easier to be quarantined by ourselves. Just Baz and me. 

This year really came and bit all my plans to propose in the arse, didn’t it? 

That’s alright. It’s fine. I’m not going anywhere.

Especially right now. 

I mean, I _wouldn’t,_ even if I could. 

The telly’s on in the background, but no one’s watching. Niall’s on his laptop with his thinking face on. (He goes all mega-focused when he’s doing schoolwork. Masters level maths. It makes Dev look like a “deranged animal.”) (Baz’s words, not mine.) (They always shag on schoolwork nights, and I don’t know that because I’m some sort of weird stalker or something. It’s because the guest bed hits the wall sometimes, and then I have to deal with Baz rolling his eyes and sighing and banging his own head against our headboard and being tetchy about even kissing me goodnight.) (I’ve been trying to figure this out, like. Obviously Niall’s got to do his stuff for school, but sometimes I wonder if he does it more often than he has to, just to rile Dev up. I wonder how far ahead in the term he is. If that’s even allowed. But everything’s different this year, innit?) 

I should really try taking a bath with him. With Baz. Because, well. I mean. 

Stress relief’s what he needs, and he’s denying himself one of the best ways. I think. 

He'll never let me in there. Not right now. It'd have to be while Niall's at work and like, I don't know. We might just have to knock Dev fully out. (I think Baz is still traumatised about the time Dev barged in on him wanking.) 

"It can't be healthy," he says now. Dev does, I mean. He's looking at me upside down from the other sofa. It's fucking weird, is what it is, and it's how he always ends up when he's bored out of his mind. (He said he's legally required to not sit in chairs properly. Baz said he's a tit.) Also he _looks_ weird. Probably we all do. We've all got quarantine hair. Both our undercuts are more like all-over-cuts now.

I shrug at him. 

His eyes cut over to Niall, who's ignoring him. And then he sighs, and does a sort of backwards somersault off the sofa.

"D," Niall says, but it's about the most half-hearted letter I've ever heard. Also he doesn't even look up from his computer.

Dev sighs as he walks past me. "Somebody's gotta do it."

" _What_ , mate?" I ask. But I don't think I'm getting anywhere. I doubt I _could._

He Dev-walks over to our bathroom, Baz's and mine. (The Dev walk's lost some of its swagger without the nice work clothes or the leather or the boots or the hair or the whole _having a bigger audience than us_ thing, but it's still under all those sweats somewhere.) Then he leans against the door and knocks. 

I should stop him, but also I reckon Baz'll rip him a new one if I don't, so it's a win-win, really.

And then, there's Baz's voice. Low and deep and irritable and muffled through the door. " _What,_ you miserable cretin?"

I'm well impressed he knows it's Dev. (Unless I'm also a cretin now.) (Probably should confirm that later on.)

"You _can't_ just languish in the bath every night! It's no way to cope!"

"This _is_ coping!" he yells back, and I feel myself starting to smile. 

"You really think your bloke'll wanna shag you when you come out of there all pruney-like? Salisbury's got standards, you know!"

"Oi!" I yell. (And, I mean. The idea of prune Baz in our bed sounds well appetising at this point, if I'm honest.) (Not that we haven't gotten off _at all,_ but.)

"If Simon had standards," yells Baz, "he wouldn't be here at all!"

"Oi!" I yell again. "Can he hear me? Tell him I said _oi._ And that he's an arsehole and so is his brain."

"Salisbury says you're an arsehole and so is your brain!" 

" _Oi_! You forgot the _oi!_ "

"With emphasis on the _oi,_ Baz!"

"Why can't you people just give me _peace_!" Baz.

"Fuck off; I'm trying to get you shagged. You should be on your knees thanking me!" Dev.

Niall bursts out laughing.

"But not in a sex way!" Dev looks over at us. "Darling, I'd expect better from you."

"There is _no_ sexual activity under this roof until the two of _you_ are out of my _house_!” Baz again. Fuming. “Emphasis on _you_!" 

"I don't know which roof you're living under, mate, but it's not the same one as me!"

"I'VE HEARD!"

"Maybe you should try it sometime, Baz! Maybe you'd stop being such a dick if you put yours to good use!"

Oh, _God_.

Niall sighs, but that's it. 

"Will you kindly fuck off?" Baz says.

"No! Because if you keep insisting on being all pruney, your dick will shrivel up and wither away to nothing and then what will you do! I'm concerned for the well-being of your undercarriage!"

I'm just thinking of that line in _Game of Thrones_. Who said it, Bronn? Jaime? _Maybe it is all cocks in the end._

When Baz says, "There's more to life than dicks."

Wow. He must be feeling out of it. I don't think I've ever heard him say _dick_ before. 

I sort of want him to say it again. Maybe to me. In a sex way.

"There is _not_ more to life than dicks," Dev argues. "At least not at the moment. Not in these circumstances. With the current state of literally everything. All there is is dicks. Dicks and math. And like, I dunno, mate. I'm not so sure I'm so starved for entertainment that I want to see a preview of you at like, 80. And I'm not even the one who fucks you."

I swear—and I know I _don't,_ purely because of logistics—that I hear Baz sigh. (Also I’m thinking how maybe _I_ would like a preview of Baz at 80.)

"Niall!" comes Baz’s baritone from behind the bathroom door. "Come put the collar back on!"

Dev turns round at that—too bloody quick—the look on his face something I never want to see again ever in my life. "Yes, darling," he says. (Purrs?) "Please _do_ come put my collar back on."

I'm looking at Niall now, who's staring into the void of his laptop, pale skin starting to burn up. I'd almost be embarrassed for him if I weren't already embarrassed for myself.

Dev Dev-walks back this way. I don’t even think he tries. Like, the walk’s built-in. Niall’s giving him a look like he’s about to rip him to shreds, but it doesn’t seem to phase him. Only eggs him on, really. (I’d be terrified if Baz looked at me like that.) (And maybe a bit turned on.) (Fuck, I think I just need a good shag.) (I need _Baz._ )

“So,” Dev says as he stops in front of Niall. “I said _please_.”

“You’re on thin fucking ice,” Niall says.

“Come on, darling.” Dev takes Niall’s laptop then—I’m shocked he manages is—and starts walking off towards the guest room with it. “I’ll show you some acute angles.” 

Niall sighs for what has to be at least the billionth time this year. Maybe this month. 

He doesn’t look at me as he gets up and follows Dev to their room. 

Probably for the best.

* * *

Baz ends up going right to bed from the bath, and when I walk in, he's nowhere near a prune.

His hair's so long now. I mean, it was long before. But _now._ He's got it knotted back, which isn't a change; the knot's just bigger. He looks tired, under the eyes…

He's in bed already, scrolling on his phone, chewing at his fingers that way he does when he doesn't have anything else to do with all the nerves. 

I still want to put a ring on one of those fingers. 

I think I'm a bit nervous to crawl into bed with him. 

The mattress is just sinking under my knees when he says, "Did you put him up to that?"

Maybe this is what I was nervous about, then. "What? No! He just...started doing Dev shit, I dunno."

"Honestly, Snow—"

"I _am_ being honest! We were sat there and he said something about being worried about you or whatever and then he popped off. Y'know. Dev shit." 

He’s chewing at the inside of his mouth now, so I take the opportunity to rescue his hand. (I take it in mine, and he flinches a bit, but then he starts to relax. He’s well wound up.) I run my thumb along the scars on the back, and play with his fingers, and shove in closer to him while I’m at it. “What’s on, love?” 

“Hm?”

“Y’know.” I try to knock his head with mine, but my glasses sort of just get smushed against his face for a second. 

“ _Ow._ ” He turns his head and gives me his best _what the fuck do you think you’re doing, Snow?_ look. Probably he’s being dramatic. Which just makes me want to snog him more than I already do, if I’m honest. 

“Baz—”

“ _Snow._ ” 

“It’s just—”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he says.

“Try me bitch.” 

Baz’s eyebrow attacks me. “Did you just call me _bitch_?” 

“I think I’ve been watching too many Vine comps.” I shrug. “Also, you’ve been right tetchy lately.”

“Yes, well.” He sighs and leans back against his pillows. It almost looks like he’s trying to sink into them. To disappear. 

I shuffle in closer, and pull his hand to my mouth to kiss it, and then I try again. “What’s on?” 

“Snow…”

“You’ll feel better,” I tell him. “Y’know you will, if you get it out.”

“ _Or,_ ” he says, “you’ll think I’m an absolute lunatic. And a pervert.” 

“Well, I already knew you were a lunatic,” I say. I turn my head to give him a smile. The corners of his lips turn up, which is progress, I think. 

“I don’t even know where to start.” 

“The beginning?” 

He scoffs. “Yes, Snow; you see, one day, my mother and my father made a very questionable decision—”

“You berk.” 

“Yes, they conceived me. The berk.” 

“You,” I say as I start playing with his hand with both of mine, now, “are avoiding the question.” 

“Maybe you’re asking impertinent questions.” 

“Thought your therapist said that when you get irritated with me that maybe it means I’m right.” 

“Did he?” 

“C’mon, love. Out with it. What sort of crack is your brain on today? Or the last few? Last few months? I dunno.” 

He closes his eyes and sighs again. “It’s. Well. It’s not that I don’t. You know.” 

“I’ve no idea.” 

“ _Simon_ ,” he hisses. Whispers. _Lisps._ “Please don’t make me say it.”

“You saying you want a shag?” 

There it comes. That blush. One of my favourite things in the entire fucking world. “I’m saying it’s not that I _don’t._ ”

“Right. Brain stuff.”

“It’s. Them. They’re so. They. _God._ ” 

Fuck, this must be bad. Baz is speaking in two-word sentences.

"Take your time."

"Sometimes when _they..._ it makes _me_ want…and then I think... _oh my God, am I into incest?_ And then I _can't._ And I can't figure it out—you're laughing, Snow."

"I'm...sorry, love—"

"I've just said my brain is telling me I want to fuck my cousin, and you're _laughing._ "

"Darling—"

"For the love of Christ, Snow, do _not_."

" _Sweetheart_." I laugh. "You're being irrational." 

" _Probably_ ," he says, "but I can't make it _stop._ "

"You're a _person,_ love. Like. It's normal to be turned on by sex stuff, y'know? Doesn't mean you want to fuck Dev."

" _Quiet,_ " he says through his teeth. "If he hears me, I'll never hear the end of it. And he doesn't need the ego boost."

I squeeze his hand. "It's not true."

He scoffs. "He absolutely does _not_ need an ego boost."

"Not that," I say. "I mean the other thing." I roll into him, then, and he lets me set my hand low on his belly and lift up the hem of his pyjama shirt. "Breathe, yeah? In for four. Hold. Out. Yeah." He does, and he lets me stroke his stomach the whole time. 

"Alright," he says after a moment, after a few cycles of breathing in and out and holding. 

I roll against him, tucking my fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers—just a bit—and bringing my lips up to his ear. "Can I? And then, y'know. We can read. And sleep."

"Snow…"

"Stress relief, love," I tell him. "You need it. And it's okay. It's _okay,_ yeah?"

"But they're. They'll _know_."

"Nah," I say as I press one kiss to his neck, then his collar. "And even if they did, they wouldn't _care._ Like. At all."

He sighs again.

" _Breathe,_ " I tell him. "That's it."

"I'm going to strangle you," he says.

"In a sex way?" I tease.

He laughs. Actually _laughs._

And then he lets me in.

* * *

Some time later— _after—_ it's full dark in our room. The only sound's the heater and the wind in the trees, and I'm lying here thinking about brain stuff and how sometimes Baz's is just trolleyed.

I know he can't help it. I know it just _happens,_ and sometimes it takes him a bit to realise what's going on. (Sometimes he needs to say it out loud, too, to know just how barmy the thoughts are.)

"Baz," I say now. (He's not asleep yet. I know what he sounds like when he sleeps.) I nudge one of his feet with mine. "Has your brain considered like...Niall? He's well fit, yeah? And not family."

"Go the fuck to sleep, Snow."

I guess that's a yes then.

**Author's Note:**

> ANYWAY this fic was born during crackhead hours & I hope y’all at least got a bit of enjoyment or a giggle out of it! Let me know down below, lol.
> 
> I’m not sure how many countdown prompts I’ll be doing this year, but this was fun, so we shall see 👀
> 
> If you enjoyed this & haven't read the main fic yet, [check it out here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685069/chapters/44312203) It's my sweet sweet baby. 
> 
> ALSO! I made a fandom [Instagram!](https://www.instagram.com/thehoneyedhufflepuff/) Come visit me if you want! 
> 
> I'm also still on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thehoneyedhufflepuff) because I like to suffer


End file.
